


Flights of Fancy

by un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Airplane Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Captain Hawke, Co-Pilot Varric, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:05:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7231210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/pseuds/un-shit-yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dorian had been the lucky one to draw First Class this time, much to Vivienne’s annoyance, and his sixteen passengers filed to their seats while he looked them over. Mostly business types, as usual, but also a friendly-looking couple consisting of a dark-haired elf and a qunari wearing an eyepatch, obviously too big for the seats in Economy. The only other person to attract Dorian’s attention was a blond in a charcoal suit, struggling to get his laptop bag stored in the overhead compartment.</i>
</p><p>  <i>“Allow me,” Dorian said smoothly, and the man looked momentarily startled, his brown eyes widening. He was classically handsome, with chiseled features and a hint of stubble on his chin, and Dorian offered him a charming smile as he stowed the bag. The blond sat down quickly, a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and the flight attendant counted the reaction as a success. With a five hour flight time, Dorian sorely needed something to keep his interest.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flights of Fancy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreadwolftakeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/gifts).



> Written for [bydoriansmoustache](http://bydoriansmoustache.tumblr.com) who won second prize in my fic giveaway contest. She requested Cullrian and "anything but angst", so I figured this was a good idea. Hope it's enjoyable, since I never write this pairing :p

Boarding for Skyhold Air Flight 941 miraculously started on schedule, despite the amount of delays that normally happened with departures from Denerim, and Dorian stood at the front of First Class to greet and assist passengers. Vivienne hovered just beyond the curtain leading to Economy, her charming smile the first and last thing people would remember from their voyage, and Sera had her position in the rear of the plane. Hopefully, she was actually helping people with their carryon luggage, instead of eating all the granola bars they had stored for their flight.

Dorian had been the lucky one to draw First Class this time, much to Vivienne’s annoyance, and his sixteen passengers filed to their seats while he looked them over. Mostly business types, as usual, but also a friendly-looking couple consisting of a dark-haired elf and a qunari wearing an eyepatch, obviously too big for the seats in Economy. The only other person to attract Dorian’s attention was a blond in a charcoal suit, struggling to get his laptop bag stored in the overhead compartment.

“Allow me,” Dorian said smoothly, and the man looked momentarily startled, his brown eyes widening. He was classically handsome, with chiseled features and a hint of stubble on his chin, and Dorian offered him a charming smile as he stowed the bag. The blond sat down quickly, a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and the flight attendant counted the reaction as a success. With a five hour flight time, Dorian sorely needed something to keep his interest.

Sera ventured up to his area after the ritual of in-flight safety announcements and takeoff procedures, slouching onto the fold-out seat next to him. “Ugh, can’t wait to get gone, hate you for sticking me with Viv,” she grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Dorian said with a smirk. “Would you rather have First Class?”

“Stuffy suits snapping fingers at me to refill sparkly water? No _thanks._ ” She scoffed and pressed her feet against the wall, the two buckling themselves in as the plane accelerated for takeoff. Dorian always loved the rush, the weightlessness that followed as the plane lifted from the ground.

“Anyone getting your knickers tight, this round?” Sera asked, wiggling her eyebrows and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Big qunari bloke your type, yeah?”

“He’s not bad.” He couldn’t see down the aisle from this angle, which was probably just as well. “Blond in 4F. He’s a blushing type. It’s rather adorable.”

“Ooh,” the elf girl said, peeking around the corner. “Pfft, he’s like a puppy. Ask to rub his belly, bet he’s ticklish.”

Once Captain Hawke had given the signal that they were at altitude, and stopped making terrible jokes over the intercom, Sera trotted back to Economy and Dorian began preparing for First Class’ cocktail hour. He took the seating chart with him, greeting the passengers by name. The qunari gave a chuckle when Dorian called him “Mr. Bull” and insisted that “Bull” was fine, and he wasn’t surprised when the man asked for whiskey on the rocks.

The blond was seated next to a short-haired woman in a sharp suit, and Dorian took a moment to examine his profile as the man gazed out the window. “Anything to drink, Mr. Rutherford?” he asked, smiling.

He startled, then glanced at the woman next to him, as if hesitant about his nervous reaction. “Just water, thank you,” he managed.

“Ms. Pentaghast?”

“I will have wine, please. Red,” she said, briskly. 

Dorian returned with their drinks, unfolding tray-tables and setting them down along with a dish of mixed nuts. The businesswoman merely grunted, but the blond gave him a slight smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Rutherford.”

“Er, Cullen is fine.” His eyes shifted to the woman again, who responded with only a raised eyebrow.

“You’re welcome, Cullen,” Dorian said, making sure to use just a hint of sultriness when repeating his name, and smirked at the blond’s blush.

Dorian always found it easy to fall into the back-and-forth nature of tending to the passengers, as the repetitive actions helped to pass the time on long flights, but adding flirtations in with his duties made everything much more fun; fetch a refill, bring more snacks for the qunari, heat the prepackaged pasta and unwrap the plastic on the salads for the in-flight lunch, ask Cullen if he’d enjoyed the nuts, and try not to laugh at his expression. 

He accepted the disgusted noise from Ms. Pentaghast gladly afterwards, the woman putting on her earbuds and focusing on the tablet clutched close to her chest. Dorian barely managed a glance at the screen, catching the words “heaving bosom” and “turgid length,” before sharp eyes glared at him and he quietly moved back to the galley.

Captain Hawke and his co-pilot Varric were playing cards when Dorian delivered their lunches. “Glad to see the plane can fly itself,” the attendant quipped. “Who’s winning?”

“He is, because he cheats,” Hawke grumbled, perking up when he was handed food.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Varric replied with a grin.

The monotony of the long flight was only broken by his duties, sly looks in Cullen’s direction, and Sera coming up to steal an unclaimed lunch, giving Dorian unneeded advice on how to seduce the blond in 4F and reminding him that he only had an hour to “get good.” He sighed and shoo’d her away, resisting the urge to call after her that he was plenty good, _thank you_.

Dorian ducked behind the galley wall, grabbed what remained of the travel-sized bottle of red wine, and raised it to his lips right as Cullen appeared. He nearly choked, but covered it well. “Do you need something?”

The blond looked uncertain, hands in his pockets. “Er, I was just going to the....” He gestured to the unoccupied lavatory. Dorian raised his eyebrows, waiting to see if there was any sort of addendum to the comment, but Cullen just bit his lip, a gesture that Dorian found extremely enticing. The man turned away, catching Dorian’s eyes as he shut the door.

Well then. 

Either he was about to make a dreadful mistake that could lead to mutual embarrassment and potential harassment claims against the airline, or he was about to partake in some genuine in-flight entertainment. Dorian casually drew the curtain between the galley and his passengers, took a long drink of wine, and rapped softly at the lavatory door. 

Dorian was quite thankful that First Class bathrooms had almost a square foot of additional space as opposed to Economy, as there was hardly any room for maneuvering once he was pressed up against Cullen. He shushed whatever comment the man was going to make with a kiss, and that was all the assurance the blond needed, judging from the eager hands that gripped his waist. Frantic fumbling ensued, Dorian’s hands undoing Cullen’s trousers and swallowing the startled noise it evoked. He had the presence of mind to glance down at the floor to check for anything disgusting before sinking to his knees; Dorian wasn’t in the habit of doing such things in bathrooms, not since his rebellious youth, but he still remembered the important parts.

“What are you - ” Cullen started to say, but his mouth clamped shut as Dorian pulled his half-hard cock free, giving Cullen a sly wink as his lips parted around the blond’s length. Cullen didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands as Dorian sucked; one covered his mouth to muffle the soft, breathy noises that escaped, the other clutching at the lavatory counter to keep himself upright. 

There wasn’t time to linger, despite how much Dorian would have loved to draw out all of Cullen’s whimpers and appreciate his blushing, awed expression, and the dark-haired man worked him hard and fast. Cullen’s head hit the lavatory wall with a dull thud, a wanton moan quickly stifled as he found release. He was still panting as Dorian patted his hip and stood, righting his own clothing.

The businessman put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you… I can…” he murmured shyly. 

Dorian found it quite endearing. “No need to reciprocate,” he replied, giving Cullen a soft smile. “Best get tidied up, though.” The other man frowned a bit, as if he were disappointed in the response.

Dorian exited first, downing the last of the wine and calmly pulling back the curtain divider. The passengers seemed oblivious, save for Bull, who gave Dorian a wink and a sly smirk. Cullen returned to his seat hastily, cheeks still flushed. Dorian felt the man’s eyes on him as he carried out the last of the landing preparations, trying to remain casual but unable to stop thinking of how genuinely _nice_ the man had been. 

_Stupid. Stop that, it was just a bit of fun. The poor man’s probably never had something like that before,_ he grumbled to himself as he buckled into his foldout seat, foot bouncing in irritation as the plane landed. The captain welcomed the passengers to Orlais, making another terrible joke and momentarily rerouting Dorian’s annoyance. He stood and waited impatiently for the gate attendant to open the plane door, then directed his normal, courteous smile at the departing passengers.

Bull clapped his large hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Take care. Tell your captain he’s a funny guy.”

“He doesn’t need the encouragement,” Dorian replied wryly, while behind him he heard Hawke yell “See!” at Varric.

Cullen let his companion exit first, then pressed a card into the flight attendant’s hand. The man’s name and phone number was printed in neat block type, and on the back was a hastily scrawled _Val Royeaux Grand_. “What’s this?” Dorian asked neutrally, shoving down a nervous laugh.

“My business card,” Cullen answered. “It has my mobile number. And the, er… hotel I’ll be staying at. Tonight and tomorrow.” His face was nearly fuschia.

“It sounds expensive.” Dorian eyed the passengers queuing behind the blond, and gestured for the man to exit before they started to riot, uncharacteristically fumbling out a parting, “I hope you enjoy yourself.” 

“I hope so, too,” Cullen replied, and then he was gone, lost in the sea of other travelers.

Two hours later, Dorian sat with Sera in their (much less expensive, thank you, Skyhold Airlines) hotel’s bar, nursing a scotch and thinking of the card in his pocket.

“Either way, I’m going to feel like a fool,” he muttered.

“Right, so what’s it matter then?” Sera asked, drawing obscene doodles on a bar napkin. “Go be a fool, you’ve got tomorrow off, you doof, no reason not to chase arse.” She eyed the buxom bartender at the other end of the counter. “Like that one. Woo, hips,” she said appreciatively.

Dorian let out a put-upon sigh. “You always give such lovely wisdom. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Sera grinned and gave him a rude gesture in parting.

He slipped outside, pulling out his phone, and took a deep breath as he dialed the number on the card, not knowing if it would be better or worse if the man didn’t answer.

No time to find out. “Hello?” came Cullen’s greeting.

“Hello. It’s Dorian,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. “From the…”

“Oh, it’s… yes, of course.” There was a muffled noise as Cullen cleared his throat, his voice nervous. “I was, er. Sort of afraid you wouldn’t call.”

 _This man is too adorable to be real_ , Dorian thought, and he chuckled. “Well, I have. Your hotel is a block away from mine. Is your offer still open?”

“Yes. Have you eaten? There’s a restaurant downstairs…”

“Do they offer room service?”

“...Ah, yes.” Cullen said. “If you’d like…”

“I would,” Dorian answered decisively. He was fairly sure he’d like many things Cullen could offer.

“Well. Yes. Good. It’s room 405.”

“See you in a few minutes, then,” Dorian said, and smiled as he hung up.


End file.
